Surface
by NancyD1
Summary: **Still in progress** Companion piece to "Fade Away". Unconventional story line, answering the question of just what Goren and Wheeler were up to the night of "Fade Away". Feedback appreciated.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Surface

Spoilers (minor): Players and Maltese Cross

Author's Notes: A companion piece to my previous Logan/Eames story, Fade Away. Again, the muse works in strange ways. Constructive feedback gratefully appreciated. A Dick Wolf creation; obviously I'm just playing.

* * *

Sur-face: the outer face, outside, or exterior boundary of a thing; outermost or uppermost layer or area. Unabridged (v 1.1)) 

ooooOoooo

"I'll have another. Megan Wheeler waved the beer bottle in her hand at the bartender then drained the remaining dregs in one gulp.

"Easy there," a voice behind her said.

Megan turned to see Bobby Goren settling himself on the bar stool next to her. He had disappeared to take a phone call, giving Wheeler more time to stew over her day.

"Keep your advice for your own partner. Besides, I'm off tomorrow." She accepted the new bottle from the bartender.

Goren pretended that she hadn't mentioned Alex Eames and focused her instead. Wheeler was upset about something, her usually alert demeanor was slumped and she was ripping the paper off her beer bottle with focused intensity.

"Something on your mind?" Goren asked.

"Just thinking."

"Anything in particular?"

"Logan," she started, but went back to finishing off the paper ripping.

"Did he do anything in particular or is it just Logan in general?"

She took a long swallow and then continued. "He told me that I didn't seem like myself."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I guess I'm usually more centered."

Goren couldn't help but smile. "Logan uttered the word centered?"

"He stopped me outside the station before we met and asked me out to dinner," Wheeler griped. "He wanted to talk and I'm sure it had to do with my dad."

"So why not talk to him? Obviously he's trying to connect with you as a partner," Goren advised.

"Now is not the time for Mike Logan to become Mr. Sensitive. I'm only mad at him because he's right and here I'm giving him the same cold shoulder he gave me when I started." She signed.

As much as any woman would feel flattered that two men invited her out on the same night, neither of them could be considered romantic prospects. Truth be told, she wished she was at home in a hot bath. Alone.

"You know it wasn't until you came along that Logan really started behaving himself," Goren observed. "With the exception of that tussle the two of you had at the firehouse, of course."

"But what about Carolyn Barek, his previous partner? I thought she was a good influence on him."

"Not that I could see. Besides, they didn't last long as partners and she moved on to other things," Goren said, knowing he was exaggerating a bit.

Not having any reason to doubt him, Wheeler accepted his reasoning despite the fact that she'd heard differently from Logan himself.

"So why didn't it work out?" She remembered seeing the petite, very striking dark haired woman once and feeling completely intimidated. Red hair and freckles just couldn't compete.

"If the rumors about them were true, then it's possible that their differences of opinion were more personal than business."

"They were involved?" Wheeler immediately regretted gossiping about her partner.

"Does it matter to you if partners or people who work together for that matter get involved?"

Wheeler felt a strange prickling sensation on the back of her neck, but ignored it. This was Goren after all, not some perp off the street. Not wanting him to think she was a prude, she replied, "No, it's fine, so long as it doesn't interfere with work."

Goren knew he needed to stop his questions, and as much as it yielded some interesting answers to his questions, it also struck very close to home.

Dropping this precarious line of conversation, he asked, "How about dinner?"

The thought of the hot bath crossed Wheeler's mind again but she was curious as to the direction of this odd friendship she'd struck up with Goren. There was just enough alcohol in her system for her to say, "Pasta sounds good."

"Sure, I make pasta," and Goren got up from his barstool and started walking out before either of them could change his mind.

/end one - to be continued


	2. Chapter 2

Title: Surface

Spoilers (minor): Players and Maltese Cross

Author's Notes: If you've gotten this far, I thank you. This is the second story to my previous Logan/Eames story, Fade Away. Several of you asked 'why' Wheeler was meeting up with Goren and here is my answer. I know it's a non-traditional story line but again, the muse works in strange ways. So go along with it; you just might like it. Feedback appreciated since it's very different from most shipper stories. A Dick Wolf creation; obviously I'm just playing.

* * *

Sur-face:

1. the outer face, outside, or exterior boundary of a thing; outermost or uppermost layer or area. Dictionary-com Unabridged (v 1.1)

ooooOoooo

Goren pulled the chef's knife from the block and for a moment contemplated the loaf of bread in front of him. Just what the hell was he up to? It was 11:00 on a Wednesday night and not only had been drinking a little more than usual, he'd brought a woman home who wasn't his partner. The thought of Eames brought filled him with a mix of regret and frustration. But he really shouldn't care, he thought, besides, it had ended and he couldn't go back.

From the kitchen he watched Wheeler slowly walk around his apartment, looking at his books and art collection before finally sitting down on the couch, drinking a glass of red wine. He was sure she was measuring him in some way, not that any woman wouldn't if this had been their first visit to his apartment. But for some reason he felt this observation a little more acutely; she was after all, a detective.

He'd come across Wheeler a few weeks back in an interview room, files spread about, her arms wrapped around her body as if to protect herself. With some gentle questioning Goren was able to coax the details of the disappearance of her father, his less-than-reputable line of work and the lingering affects on her family.

Goren was surprised that he took to Wheeler so quickly. He usually allowed things to develop slowly, watching from a distance. But knowing she'd had this terrible pain tugging at her every move appealed to him. As much as Eames suffered from the loss of her husband, the deliberate pain caused by a parent was both agonizing and disappointing all at once, a pain that he fully understood.

ooooOOoooo

There was very little that surprised Wheeler about Goren's apartment; his home was a reflection of the fastidiousness of his dress and his case work.

Wheeler tried to distract herself from the little nervous flutters in her stomach, so she took to looking over Goren's apartment (but not in an obvious way) and drinking a very good glass of wine.

It was a pleasant enough place; very tidy with good quality furniture, art prints on the wall with one or two original modern pieces. The dust on the TV told her that he didn't watch much and that the well thumbed anatomy book and police magazines on the coffee table was what was currently occupying his time. There was jazz music coming from the radio and amazing aromas from the kitchen.

"Dinner should be ready soon," Goren said, coming into the living room.

"Smells delicious." Wheeler took another gulp of wine, hoping it would cover up her sudden realization of how good he looked without his jacket and tie.

"You like the wine?"

Wheeler nodded. "Cabernet is one of my favorites especially after Logan got me this great bottle for my birthday. Not only did he remember my birthday, he remembered that I liked Sonoma reds." At Goren's slight look of disbelief, she continued. "Who knew? I think he's trying to fool us with that womanizing hot-head persona."

A buzzer went off in the kitchen and Goren politely excused himself. Wheeler was getting used to his rather old fashioned manners. He was forever opening doors for her, guiding her through crowds, his hand barely touching her back. Knowing Goren, he'd probably devoured an etiquette book at some time in his life, most likely reacting to the horrifying way his Mother conducted herself at times.

Goren had told her a bit about his childhood, mostly about his mother's mental illness. There was an older brother who had some 'issues' but he didn't say much about him.

No man she'd ever dated or even knew treated her so well, not that she was dating him of course, quickly correcting her thoughts. But still, it was nice.

ooooOOoooo

As Goren went about stirring and draining and pulling dishes from the cupboard, he found himself a little jealous of Logan and his birthday wine without really knowing why. It was really pointless, seeing as he could charm most women into his arms with a look and a smile, no wine bottle necessary. Despite that, dating was never easy which was why he fell into his relationship with Eames.

They should have never dated. They had, and continue to have a great partnership. But the misgivings he had about getting involved with his partner came true. Every insecurity and foible was suddenly magnified, not to mention that he couldn't figure out how to not have his work life spill over into their personal lives.

Although he stopped seeing Eames a while ago, there hadn't been any one else, even on a casual basis. It was as if he'd stopped his life altogether since theirs didn't work out.

He peeked into the living room and watched Wheeler flip through one of his magazines. She was so different from Eames, open and relaxed but still tough and intelligent. And attractive. His temporary partner during Eames' pregnancy had put him off redheads, but this one changed his mind.

It was during one of their late night walks that Wheeler told him that she wasn't interested in dating anyone seriously since her career taking priority right at the moment. She did admit that going out with another cop solved a lot of issues: the workload, the long, odd hours, the necessity of discretion.

Goren went back to the stove.

Of course he didn't want anything serious with Wheeler. This evening was nothing more than a flirtation; it wasn't like he was trying to get her to take an interest in him.

Nothing of the sort.

Goren took a deep swallow from his glass of wine. And then another.

ooooOOoooo

Wheeler popped her head into the kitchen. "Can I help with anything?"

"Sure," Goren nodded at the counter. "Would you mind making the salad? The lettuce has been washed."

"A salad is something I do know how to make," Wheeler admitted. She started ripping the leaves into a bow. "My mom did all of the cooking and never really bothered to teach any of us."

"Us? You mean your siblings?"

"Yes. My sister and brother and I were banned from the kitchen until I was in 5th grade. That's when Mom went to work and we had to forage for ourselves after school. The microwave became our chef."

"That's when your Dad disappeared."

Wheeler nodded. "It was the strangest thing to come home in the afternoon and there wasn't a snack waiting and my mom asking about our day. I didn't understand much of what was going on at the time. My brother knew, being the oldest. He told me later that he hated not having her around, but knew that she'd go crazy in that house all alone, waiting for my Dad to return. It's no surprise that he prefers his wife to stay at home."

"He's the doctor?"

"An accountant. My sister is a pediatrician."

"And you became a cop. All very upstanding careers. You're mother should be proud."

"She's just grateful that none of us became a lawyer." Wheeler tossed the cucumber she just cut on the lettuce and sighed. "Honestly, I could live with the fact that my dad wasn't the most upstanding lawyer but taking bribes for liquor licenses and then the side job as a bagman…" Her voice trailed away, just as ashamed now as she was when her Uncle Pete told her the news.

Goren knew there wasn't anything that he said that would make her feel better so he gave her some tomatoes for the salad and let the silence fall between them.

end two / to be continued


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Notes: Apologies for taking so long to post the last chapter. But please read and send feedback. I'm curious to know what you think (or if you're tearing your hair out.)

ooooOoooo

Wheeler had to admit that dinner far exceeded her expectations. "Just great," she said, pushing her plate away from her. "I haven't had a homemade meal in ages."

"What? Logan doesn't make you dinner to go with the wine he gives you?" Goren teased gently.

"Oh my god, no." Wheeler groaned and laughed.

Somewhere in the apartment a cell phone rang, the shrill noise echoing into the dining room. Wheeler noticed Goren stiffen ever so slightly, his eyes shifting down the hallway towards what she assumed was his bedroom.

Suppressing a sigh, Goren got up from the table. "I'll be right back," he said and walked quickly down the hallway.

Picking up the phone from his bureau, Goren was momentarily relieved to see the number on the Caller ID, but that was quickly replaced with concern.

"Goren."

"Bobby? It took you long enough to pick up the phone." Despite his mother's illness, her voice was still strong, the bite in her tone as sharp as ever.

"I was busy," he replied and immediately regretted his words. Bobby shut the bedroom door quietly, but not before glancing down the hallway, towards the living room. Wheeler was still sitting at the table, toying with the remains of her dinner with her fork.

"Too busy to talk to you mother? What's so important?"

"I have a friend over for dinner."

"Ah. Is it that Erica Eames? Your partner?"

"Alex Eames, Mom. And no, it's not Alex." Goren leaned against the wall, carefully avoiding looking at a particular spot on the wall opposite, a little to the left of the bureau, next to the bed.

"She was a nice girl but you can do better. A little too much brass in that one. Besides, you know what I say about dating people you work with, never dip your pen in company ink."

Keeping the amusement out his voice, Goren replied, "I'll keep that in mind." He didn't even bother correcting her about his dinner being a date.

"I suppose you want go back to your dinner and we can talk about the nurses tomorrow. They're up to no good; I saw one of them eyeing my jewelry. I need you to come out tomorrow and deposit my jewelry in a safety deposit box."

Goren didn't even try to defend the nurses nor did he bother with talking his mother out of the safety deposit box, despite the fact it wasn't necessary. Most of her jewelry was paste. After making assurances for the next several minutes that he would be out to visit, Goren hung up the phone.

He took a deep, shuddering breath and closed his eyes. His mother's comments pierced not just the failure of his relationship with Eames but questioned his judgment for getting involved with his partner, which in turn gave him doubts about his work as a cop. How it was that he managed to get that out of the brief conversation with his mother, he didn't know. All he knew was that her most oblique comments were the most deadly.

Opening his eyes, Goren finally looked at the spot on the wall, an indentation left by Eames after one of their last arguments. Contrary to his usual orderly manner, he left it as a souvenir to the animosity of their relationship. It was his constant reminder that he could never go back.

His eyes narrowed as they passed over the bed but instead of regret, a feeling of anticipation and a sudden vision of red hair on his white sheets came to mind.

ooooOOoooo

Once the bedroom door shut, Wheeler decided she might as well check her own phone for messages. Standing, she realized that she wobbled a bit. Absolutely no more wine, she told herself firmly. Now was not the time to make an ass out of herself in front of a fellow officer.

Wheeler's thoughts wandered back to Logan and for a moment considered calling him. She knew he was pissed off at her for the way she treated him back at the station. He was only trying to be sympathetic about her dad and at some point she knew that she should tell him all about it, if only to clear the air between them. But now was not the time, her phone reminding her it was after midnight.

Deciding that she needed a task to pass the time, Wheeler started to clear the dishes from the table. As she went to and from the dining room, she tried to not look at the closed bedroom door and couldn't help but wonder if Goren's phone call was from Eames. She knew it wasn't a case otherwise he'd have reappeared in a moment, his coat in hand, his gun at his hip.

Not that she should really care if it was Eames but she still wondered.

ooooOOoooo

Just as Wheeler set down the last serving dish by the sink, Goren reappeared.

"Sorry about that. It was my mom." He wandered back into the dining room and sat down. Wheeler followed.

"Everything okay?" She probably shouldn't have asked, but Goren had seemed comfortable enough talking about his mother's lymphoma.

"Yeah, for the most part," was all he said. He didn't feel like explaining.

Wheeler nodded, understanding. She gave him a slight, almost shy smile. "Thank you for dinner. I really needed this."

"You're welcome. It's been a while since I cooked for someone." Goren said, pleased by the smile on her face. He lifted a bottle of wine to refill her glass.

Covering the glass with her hand, she shook her head, "I should get going. It's late."

Goren looked at his watch. "It's only 12:15. Besides, there's dessert."

Wheeler felt that same sensation on the nape of her neck that she'd felt earlier that evening. She pushed her chair back and stood, carefully. "Thanks, but it's time for me to go home. I'm gonna call a cab," Wheeler said with more confidence than she felt. It was a very tempting offer and as much as she really wanted to stay, she retrieved her cell phone from her purse before she could change her mind.

ooooOOoooo

Goren was scraping dishes in the kitchen when she finished her call.

"My cab should be here in a few minutes," Wheeler said. "Thanks for a great evening."

He finished scraping before acknowledging her. "Like I said, I don't do this very often. I enjoyed it and would like to do this again. Maybe next time we actually mark the calendar rather than let it happen randomly. How does next Thursday work for you?"

A little stunned, Wheeler wasn't sure if she heard him correctly.

"Okay, we can talk about it," was all she could manage.

"This really should be either a yes or no answer," Goren said, puzzled by her reluctance.

But Wheeler couldn't bring herself to say yes or no. She needed some time to think about it when her brain didn't feel so fuzzy. She had to put him off.

"Megan?" Goren calling her by her first name snapped her out of her inner rant.

"Sorry. It's the wine."

"Stay for a while longer. I can make you some coffee."

He made it sound so innocent. "I should go," and Wheeler quickly turned on her heel and went into the living room to find her coat. Maybe some evening air would bring some sense back to her.

"Goren," she started.

"Bobby," he said. He was right behind her, taking her coat from her. "Call me Bobby."

"Okay, Bobby." His name sounded strange coming out of her mouth since only Eames called him Bobby. He helped her on with her coat, sending shivers down her spine from the briefest touch of his hand on her shoulders. "So, I'll see you at work."

"And what about my question?"

"Oh. Ah, okay."

"Is that your answer?"

"What? Oh, yes, that was my answer, yes."

Somewhere outside there was a blast from a car horn. Goren walked her down to the street and helped her into the cab.

"I'll talk to you soon," he said, leaning down, his face hovering above hers.

"Thanks for dinner." Wheeler felt a little breathless.

For a moment they stared at each other but he pulled away, shutting the door and the cab drove away at what seemed to be a dizzying speed.

Shit, she thought, her heart racing. She could definitely come under his influence.

ooooOOoooo

Goren sat on the edge of his couch and finished off the bottle of wine. He retraced the events of the past few hours and after tonight he definitely liked Wheeler even more.

Although she'd agreed to another dinner he really should have waited to ask her when she was completely sober, having noticed how tentative she was when she stood up from the table. Besides she didn't look completely convinced that he was interested in her.

Which he was and tonight reaffirmed his attraction. His reasons for pursuing her went beyond the bedroom. He truly enjoyed their repartee, especially their interest in police work. She overcame her father's disappearance and found that her tragedy made her a better cop and he respected her for it. She was tough but still feminine and he found her confidence almost sensual. Wheeler was quite attractive, her red hair and wide green eyes very striking and on a whole, quite unlike one Alexandra Eames.

But Goren shouldn't have done it this way; he should have never taken her to his favorite bar because it was around the corner from his apartment and he knew he would bring her home. He wanted to swear that this was coincidence but he'd done it before and with a much different ending. The other women didn't refuse dessert and what came afterwards.

But Wheeler saw right through his innocent request and went home. Smart woman, he thought, though mildly disappointed. Even Eames couldn't refuse him.

Goren kicked off his shoes and stretched out on the couch. Lately he didn't bother sleeping in his bedroom. It would be a while before sleep would try to take him and that didn't bother him. Tonight he had someone else to think about.

ooooOOoooo

Wheeler dragged herself into her bedroom the moment she got home and threw herself onto her bed, fully dressed, still wearing her coat, her purse in her hand. The room spun around her and she wasn't sure if it was the effects of the wine or Goren.

He wants me to call him Bobby, Only Eames calls him Bobby. But he never talks about her. The talk about everyone else in the squad room and everything else in the world, but Eames is always an elusive topic.

Something had to have happened there, but she couldn't be completely sure since they were still partners and seemed to be very tight.

But then why her? They certainly bonded over their childhoods, both very different but still tragic on varying levels. And they had their careers but should be more than that?

Wheeler was attracted to him and the events of this evening told her that the feeling was most likely mutual. But she had misgivings about the matter not to mention there was something about Goren's relationship with Eames that made her uncomfortable.

She wished she'd had more time to give him an answer about dinner. And although it was only dinner (thankfully he didn't call it a date), it was still complicated with work and their partners. Shit. She was supposed to be Captain Ross' golden child and here she got drunk in one of the most notorious detective's apartment.

And why not? Wheeler sat straight up in bed. Why shouldn't she act on her attraction to one of the most enigmatic and interesting men she'd ever met. They were both single and responsible adults. Why shouldn't she consider going further with this thing that was happening with them? Screw Captain Ross and Alex Eames and all common sense that told her that this was a bad idea.

Of course, Bobby Goren wasn't the type of person you were serious about. She couldn't contemplate a relationship at this time in her life. Maybe a no-stings thing might be easier.

Yeah, right.

She threw herself back onto the bed in misery. It was always the woman who ended up with a broken heart and run out the door. She'd be gone like Barek before her and all that would remain of her were unconfirmed rumors.

And with that uncomfortable thought and still fully dressed, Wheeler gave into her exhaustion and fell into an uneasy sleep.

She had definitely come under Goren's influence.

/end

Author's note: Thank you for your interest in this unusual story line. I really never meant for this to go on but Eames and Logan are begging to have their say so I couldn't completely wrap things up in this story. That being said, Wheeler and Goren will return at some point. A little brainstorming helps so drop me a line if you'd like; I'm open to ideas. Thanks!


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